Undying Love
by Tif S
Summary: AU: A oneshot set during the hundredth episode where Rumpelstiltskin has a conversation with his son about his regrets and the importance of family and begins to realize maybe he isn't as alone as he once believed. Also includes a bit of Golden Believer.


Rumplestiltskin felt the rocking motion of the boat, the boat that would take him back to damnation. He knew. Because there was one thing that Miss Swan didn't take into consideration when she set out on this hero's' quest, and it was the very thing that had consumed his every thought since they'd boarded. He had told Belle that he would come back, and he was most certain the heroes would find their own loophole once the reality set in, because they _believed_ but he could feel the traces of darkness emanating from their very own savior in the way that no one else on that ship could. There was no precedent. The actions he had taken had never been undertaken by any Dark One in the history of Dark Ones. Never had the darkness been taken back, never had the previous Dark One been alive to feel the after effects, to report if there was still a connection with the dagger. As Miss Swan now was. Never had a Dark One had the opportunity to be a blank slate and go back again. As he had. It all felt like a very bad relapse. And he wasn't sure of the reason why.

The boat still rocked, a dangerous rocking. His head spun, and he sat up against the ship's back wall away from the rest of the group. There was one who kept looking over. Henry. The boy looked as though he wanted to approach, the way he looked at him and away, but it was all blurring in front of him in a bout of seasick, so even as he heard footsteps, he couldn't be sure whose they were.

"Grandpa!"

He wasn't sure what he did next. He was fading fast, but then he felt a pair of arms around him, lifting him to his feet. The rocking was no longer an issue. He smelled the sea air, now fresh and clean. No longer the putrid ash of the River Styx, but he couldn't place where he was.

The sky was blue and clear. He heard the sound of seagulls. He blinked against the bright light as his eyes adjusted. He could see his shop in the distance. He was standing on the dock in Storybrooke, the hands no longer around him.

"You never were much of a seafarer. Remind me again how you stayed on the Jolly Roger long enough to cut Hook's hand off?" The voice was familiar, achingly so, but he didn't want to search out the source. Nonetheless he found his gaze moving across the way. He looked much the same way he had in Manhattan that first time they'd seen each other since his boyhood, except most notably, his expression. There was a smile with the words, a teasing hint.

"Bae…?"

"In the…" The younger man shook his head. "Well, you get the idea." The smile dropped as he kicked the ground underfoot. "How are they?"

Rumplestiltskin smiled. He knew who his son was referring to. "You would be proud. Henry's become a fine young man. And Miss Swan...Emma, she's…" How could he put this?

"Trying to save Hook," Neal nodded. "I know." There was no bite or jealousy in his words. He walked across the dock, leaning with his back against the rail next to his father. "Why'd you do it Papa?"

Rumple couldn't bring himself to meet his son's eyes. He felt the weight of every mistake he'd ever made as the boy's father, knew he would see betrayal in those eyes he knew as well as his own. He felt a gentle pressure, Bae's hand squeezing his.

"Papa, I won't be mad." At those words, Rumpelstiltskin looked. He could see disappointment etched in between his son's gaze, but he wasn't sure if it wasn't merely a reflection of his own. When he looked again, he saw his son's usual expression of curiosity, his tongue between his top row of teeth. He remembered the boy begging for stories, leaning forward on a small stool as the legs rose barely above the ground. Rumpelstiltskin always feared that the boy would fall forward, his skull becoming a bloody mess on the cottage floor.

Seeing the same mannerism now intermingled with such a declaration, one that couldn't possibly be the truth, caused him to sigh. "I couldn't face it again...not alone."

"You thought you'd need the power to make it out?" He sighed. His words weren't mocking. There wasn't an accusation within them, but there was a hint of something else, the same thing that Rumpelstiltskin remembered after he'd poofed a young Bae back to their home, away from Pan. Disbelief.

Rumpelstiltskin nodded, a small shame filled movement, as he tasted the salt of a tear.

"Papa…" Bae leaned against his father, putting an arm around the older man. "You know you're not alone this time right?"

Rumpelstiltskin swallowed letting himself take in his son's words. He supposed it was true in the technical sense. The Charmings, Regina, Robin, Emma, and the boy, his grandson Henry, were all going to the Underworld as well. But did that really mean he was any less alone? No one in that boat would ever fully trust him. Not that he'd expect it.

"Start with Henry." Bae clapped him on the shoulder. "The kid already likes you, besides you've got a pretty easy conversation starter." He pointed to himself with a smile. "I refused to talk to him about enough childhood trauma that you two can talk for hours."

"I'll do that." Rumple's voice came out muffled with emotion as he smiled. Henry _liked_ him? The idea wasn't far fetched. Watching him grow up in Storybrooke, Rumpelstiltskin knew that Henry had a good heart. He was one of those kids that would befriend his tormentors offering to trade Regina's famous apple turnovers for fruit snacks and letting any insults roll off his shoulders with a shrug and a smile. Despite any protestations from himself, Henry would come into the shop every day after school and chatter the man's ear off, asking what this that or the other did, who it'd been pawned by, and what it's connection to the fairytales was. Under the curse of course, Rumple could do little more than spin threads offhandedly and try to shoo the boy away to the best of his ability before madame mayor found out, but even when he was little more than a pawnbroker, he knew there was something special about this annoyingly optimistic child, so much like his father. "Thank you Bae."

His son didn't answer, but even as Bae offered him a hand and walked him to the Jolly Roger (how ironic), Rumple could see the tears glinting at the corner of his eyes. "It was great to see you again." The words didn't do justice to either of their states of mind. "I love you Papa."

"I love you too Son." Rumpelstiltskin pulled his son in for a hug.

"Good luck." Bae waved as Rumpelstiltskin once again felt the ship rocking, but this time he simply held on keeping his eyes on the figure of his son, growing smaller and smaller as he departed.

"Grandpa! Mom, Grandpa's hurt." The small voice became more recognizable as Rumple's eyes opened. He was no longer feeling so ill, and so could make out the figure kneeling in front of him. Henry. And the surroundings of the ship. He was back en route to the Underworld.

"Henry…" Rumple rubbed his forehead as he sat up.

"Are you okay?"

"Perfectly well m'boy." Rumple put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Not to worry."

Henry bit his lip, looking nervously at the man in front of him. "Um… Grandpa... I mean.. Uh… "

"What's wrong?" He had a feeling he knew what was coming.

"Do you think… will Dad be there? Do you think I'll get to see him?"

Rumpelstiltskin felt his heart breaking. He shook his head. "I really don't know Henry." He didn't. Even though he had just talked to Bae and his son had seemed in a decent state, he couldn't say for sure whether he would make another appearance. Baelfire had always been rather secretive, one of the worst of many inherited habits that had just gotten worse after he became Neal Cassidy. Why had _he_ even had the opportunity to talk to him, why him and not Henry? The boy didn't need it any less. But he didn't voice this to the boy. Instead, he simply opened his arms inviting a hug.

And for the first time found he didn't feel so alone.


End file.
